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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24887632">Sticky</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/joonfired/pseuds/joonfired'>joonfired</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>it's smut o'clock in Mandorin land, boys [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Consent, Dirty Sex, Dirty Talk, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sex Pollen, Top Corin, because it's in a swamp, bottom Din</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:56:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,331</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24887632</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/joonfired/pseuds/joonfired</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Do even I need to write a summary? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret)/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>it's smut o'clock in Mandorin land, boys [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623514</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>103</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sticky</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/gifts">LadyIrina</a>.</li>


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22789363">Touch and Taste</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/pseuds/LadyIrina">LadyIrina</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>don't use the word sticky from this fic as a drinking game okay</p><p>I don't want to be a murderer</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They’re wandering in circles, Corin thinks. It’s hot and dimming into night and he swears they’ve passed the same sprawling cluster of purple-orange flowers for the fourth time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on,” Din says, stopping from where he’s been in the lead, turning his helmet in Corin’s direction. “It’s getting dark.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Corin mutters, swatting at one of the too-big insects that seems beyond intent on latching onto his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They weren’t supposed to get lost. It was supposed to be a quick reconnaissance trip into this damned swamp. In and out and back to the kid they left surrounded by grandmotherly types that seemed maybe too-eager to have a child to watch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ground under Corin’s feet slides away and he sways off balance, falling into the flowers with a yelp. The bright-hued petals cling to his skin and leave a sticky residue as he sits up with a grimace and a sputter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” Din walks over, extending a hand to help him up. But the ground shifts again, causing the armored figure to crash with a muffled curse, helmet planting directly into the muddy surface.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Corin tries not to stare as Din lifts himself up by the arms, biceps flexing under the wet cloth beneath his muck-smeared armor. Something twists in him as he licks his lips, tasting swamp and grit and sweet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Din asks, moving into a crouch, brushing mud from his forearms with sharp, frustrated movements.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing,” Corin replies automatically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it is, in fact, </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something inside him has clicked, his senses heightened when it comes to Din. His eyes catch every movement, every tension and relaxation of Din’s body, of those </span>
  <em>
    <span>hands</span>
  </em>
  <span> resting on muscular thighs. His ears catch the filtered breaths just off-tempo with the rise and fall of Din’s chest, broad shoulders unable to be hidden behind beskar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does something taste . . . </span>
  <em>
    <span>sweet</span>
  </em>
  <span> to you?” Din’s voice sounds different. Smoother. Rasping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Corin agrees, gaze slipping in a sudden dizziness to the flowers they’re surrounded by, the crushed petals still clinging to his clothes and skin. “Sweet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he looks at Din again, Corin </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The need is heady and overpowering, guiding him to his knees and bringing his hands to the sides of that beautiful beskar helmet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you’d taste sweet, too,” he slurs, ending with a chuckle. He trails a finger down the side and along the bottom edge, the pad of his fingertip so, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> sensitive. “Sweet and sticky and good on my tongue.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din makes a sound but he doesn’t move away. Instead, he leans in, tipping his helmet against Corin’s chest. He’s breathing heavy, the sound echoing in Corin’s ears, each exhalation sending pulsing thrills down, down, down into his dick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck, he’s so hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Din,” he murmurs, palms flat against the Mandalorian’s back, pressing him against his aching body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Din pants in agreement, surging up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din tugs his helmet off in a swift gesture, tossing it aside with a growl as his bare eyes meet Corin’s for the first time. Long, tangled hair wet with humidity and sweat fall into roughly carved features above dark eyes full of so many things it would take Corin years to discover and name them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s a beautiful mess, Corin thinks, staring at the man during the span of a millisecond. If war had a god, this would be one of its faces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” he says, breathless like he’d just received a punch to the gut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din crooks a smile in his direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he kisses him, full and fierce. It’s a collision of salty lips and flower-sweet tongues, of teeth glancing against teeth that forces them to slow, to savor this. To sigh and sink into the feelings, to let all those past looks and thoughts and wonders break through and claim life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do taste sweet,” Corin gasps, biting his lip to remember the taste as Din stares at him through those lovely curls that keep falling into his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is this?” Din asks, even though he’s leaning in again. “What are we doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Living?” he replies instinctively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Din muses, biting at Corin’s lips. “That sounds right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sweet taste overpowers Corin’s mind, but not as much as the weight of Din above him, pushing him up and down into firmer ground, the flowers now almost thoroughly crushed beneath them. Petals break and peel away as they shed their armor and clothes, tossing them into the darkening surroundings until it’s nothing but skin against sticky skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants so much he feels like he will explode, and the way Din is rutting against his hip, his length rock-hard and pulsing, shows that Corin isn’t the only desperate one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Corin lifts himself up on his elbows, lips searching for and finding the salty-sweet pulse at the base of Din’s neck. He lingers there a moment before he ducks his head lower, pressing a kiss against the man’s chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Din says before Corin can ask. “Yes, please, yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolls away and onto his back, arms curling up Corin’s sides as they change positions. In the golden haze of day’s end, surrounded by purple-orange petals and broken green stems, Din is magnificent. And the sounds he makes when Corin slides down, taking the sticky, swollen length deep enough make him go slowly so the possible reaction doesn’t ruin everything?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re even better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din grinds against Corin’s mouth, hands fisting in his hair as he moans wantonly into the evening. He begs with broken, indiscernible words where the meaning is clear without speaking. He grunts and gasps, and then he comes hot and fast, spilling down Corin’s chin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Corin comes, too, but not very satisfactory. He’s still hard as he sinks back onto his heels, wiping away Din’s stickiness from his chin and licking it from the back of his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I taste sweet?” Din asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Corin huffs and grins, following that with a nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to taste you now,” Din demands, and Corin doesn’t have to be told twice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leans back on his palms as Din practically pounces on him, chin digging just a little painfully into his inner thigh. But, </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that mouth erases every other feeling but the hot, twisting sensation of Din’s tongue working along him. He tips his head up to the stars making their routine entrance and </span>
  <em>
    <span>groans</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait.” Din lifts his head after what feels a blissful eternity that screeches into not-enough, not yet, </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Come inside me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Corin twitches at the thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>aching</span>
  </em>
  <span> for tight warmth. For that talented tongue. For </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> so long as it gives him the release he craves, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right,” he agrees easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din nods and then turns around, presenting a rounded posterior that Corin reaches for and squeezes. He checks to see if the man is ready, and based on the loosened hole, it seems Din was prepping himself while he sucked Corin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on,” Din begs, twisting his head around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Corin has always been good at following orders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He enters slowly, trying to control himself as Din’s tightness wraps around him. He grips the man’s hips and thrusts gently at first, hissing from how fucking good this feels.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How did they go from dancing wordless around each other to </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Corin shakes his head of thoughts because all that matters is Din moving against him, him moving inside Din, pleasure budding tight and pulsing at the base of him. It keeps growing, prompting him to move faster, harder, deeper, more, more, </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> until he’s coming in moaning gasps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he pulls out, limp and dripping, there’s the faintest taste of odd sweetness on the back of his tongue. Din sighs and collapses, rolling stiffly onto his side to smile up at Corin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” he says, glancing around in the now-twilight at the flowers, their scattered clothes, and then back at Corin who’s still returning from the high of his release. “I guess that just happened.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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